


Wacky Alternative Universe - The Harmony Collection

by IckleRonnikens



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:00:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27321619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IckleRonnikens/pseuds/IckleRonnikens
Summary: A collection of the "Wacky Alternative Universe" themes from the Harmony discord. A new theme every fortnight.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. The Lowly Kitchen Hand

Title: The Lowly Kitchen Hand

Theme: Cinderella

Summary: n/a

* * *

The beautiful Princess of the kingdom was going from homestead to homestead, desperately trying to find her Prince. The man she had danced with at the Yule Ball, who had disappeared into the night without so much as a goodbye, and the only thing that she had to identify him was a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, which she had slipped off his nose to kiss him, only to have him scamper on her at the stroke of midnight.

‘Who lives here?’ Princess Hermione asked her aid, who bowed at her as she stepped down from her horse and carriage.

‘The Dursley family, your grace,’ her aid said, bowing as he shuffled forwards in front of her and knocked firmly on the door.

Princess Hermione frowned as the door to the homestead opened at once. A large beefy man and a thin lanky woman bowed on the other side of the threshold.

‘Your grace,’ they said in unison, gesturing towards their living room, ‘your Prince is in here. Our son, Dudley. He will fit those glasses.’

Princess Hermione would be the judge of that. She stalked past the two parents in the hallway and stepped into the living room. The Dursley’s son was large and short and not at all like the man that she remembered. No matter, there were no exceptions on her quest, she clicked her fingers and the aid brought forth the glasses, resting on a pillow.

‘I’m afraid your face is rather too large, sir,’ said the aid, who had been set the task of trying them on Dudley.

‘Perhaps it’s just a tight fit?’ Mrs Dursley tried to say.

‘Perhaps they’re the wrong glasses?’ Mr Dursley suggested.

‘Let’s go,’ Princess Hermione said with a click of her fingers, causing the Dursley’s to slouch their shoulders in disappointment.

When Princess Hermione turned to go, she noticed out of the corner of her eye the mirror standing over the fireplace, and in the reflection, she spotted a man in the kitchen, doing dishes.

‘Who is that?’ she asked curiously.

‘Oh, pay no attention to him,’ Mrs Dursley said promptly, moving in front of the Princess’ line of sight, ‘that is just our lowly kitchen hand—’

‘Now, now,’ said the aid, ‘the order was that _every_ bachelor must be checked, right my grace?’

Princess Hermione was already making her way into the kitchen. The man at the sink eventually noticed who he was in the presence of. He pulled his soapy hands from the sink, wiped them on the apron he wore and then promptly bowed.

‘What is your name?’ Princess Hermione asked of him curiously.

‘Harry, your grace,’ Harry said, bowing low.

Princess Hermione clicked her fingers. The aid with the glasses on the pillow came running forwards, but just as he went to go past the giant frame of Dudley, the boy stuck his leg out and sent the aid and the glasses flying.

‘Oh dear,’ Mr Dursley said, with a smirk on his face, ‘what would the King say?’

‘This is a disaster,’ said the aid, running around the kitchen like a chicken without a head.

‘Perhaps I could help?’ Harry suggested, but just as the aid waved away the thought with his hand, Harry reached into the pocket of his apron and pulled out another pair of wire-rimmed glasses, completely identical to the ones broken on the floor.

The Dursley’s all looked horrified. Princess Hermione beamed. And the aid started sobbing in delight as he took the glasses from Harry, took a breath, and then placed them carefully onto the nose of the lowly kitchen hand.

‘A perfect match!’ The aid cried out in joy.

‘Harry,’ Princess Hermione said, moving forwards to take one of Harry’s slightly soapy hands and bending her knee ever so slightly to lean down and kiss it. ‘Will you be my Prince?’

Harry smiled weakly at her and then nodded as she leaned up and claimed the kiss that should have been hers several nights ago.


	2. The Double Life

Title: The Double Life

Theme: Mr and Mrs Smith movie from 2005.

Summary: Hermione Granger is a secret agent. Her family has no idea what she really does for a living. When she is called into work for a job, she discovers that she is not the only one who lives a double life. Harmony Muggle AU.

* * *

‘Mum… where’s dad?’

‘Still at work, sweetheart.’

Hermione Granger placed the plate of dinner down in front of her teenage daughter Lily, who slouched in her seat, reached for her knife and fork and cut into her meal. It was yet another Friday night where Lily only had one parent for company, her mother and father were serial offenders when it came to working late, and she couldn’t remember the last time the three of them had sat down to dinner and eaten properly like a family.

‘Again?’ Lily said with a frown, holding the fork half-way up to her mouth and watching her mother take the seat opposite. ‘That’s like, the third night in a row this week, isn’t it? And before that, you were gone three nights in a row—’

‘I know,’ Hermione said quietly, glancing quickly towards the clock hanging over on the wall before picking up her own cutlery, ‘and I know I promised to try and be home more often, but—’

Literally as the words were coming out of her mouth, her backside buzzed, and when she put her cutlery down and reached for her phone in her pocket, Lily rolled her eyes, mumbled something and started eating. Hermione excused herself from the table, ducked out of the kitchen and made her way up the hallway before answering.

‘Hello?’ Hermione asked in a soft voice.

‘We need you to come in,’ a gravelly voice said on the other end of the line.

Hermione sighed. ‘Now?’ she asked in frustration.

‘Yes,’ the voice told her authoritatively, ‘we have a code green situation that requires your… _special skills…_ ’

Hermione bowed her head. She knew what that meant. The last thing she wanted to do was go, but it was never a good idea to say “no” to her place of work, it would only end up being worse for her family.

‘Did you hear me?’ The voice on the other end of the phone asked. ‘I said code green—’

‘I heard!’ Hermione hissed impatiently, before quickly reigning in her temper. ‘I’ll be there in thirty minutes.’

There was a pause and then the voice said, ‘make it fifteen.’

The call disconnected. Hermione immediately made her own phone call as she returned to the kitchen and found Lily breaking house rules by eating with her mobile out. Their eyes met, her daughter already knew what was happening, so she didn’t at all feel guilty about browsing on her phone, and her mother no longer had the leverage to tell her to stop.

‘Mum, hi,’ Hermione said, reaching for a small potato from her plate and popping it into her mouth, ‘sorry to call so late, but I have to go into work. Could you come and watch Lily?’

‘I’m thirteen,’ Lily said under her breath, rolling her eyes slightly as she placed her phone face down on the table and went back to eating, ‘why do I still need to be watched?’

‘No, he’s at work,’ Hermione said, answering her mother and narrowing her eyes at her daughter, ‘could you please, mum? I need to go in now… okay, yes, thank you.’

Hermione hung up and put her phone away. She paused, briefly, as she leaned on the head of her chair and stared across at Lily, unsure what to say. Moments ago, she had been acknowledging her promise to be home more often, and yet now, she would be leaving her daughter alone during the middle of dinner yet again.

‘Lily, I—’

‘Better not be late, right?’ Lily asked, raising her eyebrows.

‘I… yes,’ Hermione said, and she started going about the kitchen collecting her things.

‘For the record, I’m old enough to take care of myself,’ Lily said proudly, ‘grandma doesn’t have to keep covering.’

‘Hopefully, it’s just for tonight,’ Hermione said, swooping down to kiss her daughter on the top of her head. ‘I’ll have a discussion with my work, and your father, about being here more. I can at least promise you that, sweetheart. You will lock the door after me and only open for your grandma, yes?’

‘Yes,’ Lily said as her mother left the kitchen, before she stabbed a potato roughly and lowered her voice, ‘not that your promises mean anything…’

~ * ~

Hermione was a secret agent who worked for the English Government. Her place of work was a security bunker, deep under the heart of London, that was said to have once been used by the former Prime Minister himself, Winston Churchill, during world war two. Hermione was part of the intelligence branch; her primary focus was obtaining classified information from other high-level agencies and governments.

However, there was one special skill that she was specifically known for throughout the agency and would always be called upon by her superiors when the circumstance arose, and the other agents were getting nowhere.

Interrogation.

‘Agent Granger. Thank you for coming in.’

Her boss was tall, dark and handsome. Despite being her superior, Agent Shaklebolt inclined his head as she approached out of mutual respect and immediately handed over a plain folder, which she took in her stride.

‘What’ve we got?’ Hermione asked curiously, flipping it open and beginning to browse it as they walked together.

‘Another John Doe,’ Agent Shaklebolt said promptly, leading her down the narrow hallways of the bunker towards the interrogation rooms. ‘The man is definitely a spy. Fingerprints matched a record in the database from seven years ago, linked to several missions carried out in the middle east, which sabotaged many of our own. There’s no picture or name on the file, but we’re pretty sure he’s an enemy of the agency. We just need you to make sure of it.’

They stopped in front of the interrogation room. Hermione kept her head down over the files, flipping through the details as best as she could, trying to deduce anything that would help her make the man on the other side of the door crack. After getting through the folder in record pace, and noting one potential flaw, she handed it back to her boss and smirked.

‘Do I have my usual clearance?’ she asked, casually putting her hair up into a tight knot.

‘Yes,’ Agent Shaklebolt said, nodding promptly. ‘Everything has been arranged. The cameras have been disabled. The recording devices have all been removed. The man has been stripped of his belt and shoes. The cart with your toys is sitting in the far corner of the room.’

‘Excellent,’ Hermione said, rolling up her sleeves, ‘and don’t worry, sir. I’ll have him singing like a bird before daybreak.’

Agent Shaklebolt nodded curtly and opened the door for her. Another Agent, who had been standing in the interrogation room watching the captive, stepped out and Hermione stepped in. Just as the door slammed shut and locked behind her, she froze on the threshold as the John Doe sitting at the table looked up and their eyes locked. They were not the eyes of a man that she was a stranger too. In fact, they were more than just familiar, they were ones she saw on almost a daily basis.

Her daughter had been looking at her with those eyes merely twenty minutes ago.

To say that Harry Potter was surprised at the sight of his wife was a bit of an understatement. A moment ago, his head had been bowed, he had been in a trance-like state, unemotional and prepared for anything and everything to come his way. But this, this was something completely unexpected, something he could never anticipate, and it caught him off-guard, his mouth dropped open, his eyes widened, and his defences were lowered immediately.

‘Well,’ Harry said after a pause, ‘when they said they were going to bring in their expert interrogator to try and get me to talk, this was not what I expected.’

Hermione was still frozen on the threshold of the doorway. She had so many questions. Very few of which could help the current situation. She had never been more thankful in her life that the cameras were off, that there was no two-way mirror for her superiors to see what was happening and that she always did her interrogations alone.

‘I like your hair up like that,’ Harry complimented her, a small smile appearing on his face.

She gave him a look and then put her head down and began pacing back and forth in front of him. She was biting her lip in that way she did when she was deep in thought, when Harry would catch her sometimes whilst reading a particularly interesting book, and they’d share a smile together.

‘Tell me who you work for!’ Hermione demanded of him, coming to a stop on the other side of the table and pointing a finger.

Harry laughed. ‘Is that it?’ he asked in amusement. ‘I find out you’re this world class interrogating secret agent and all you do is point?’

Hermione sighed, slouched her shoulders and bowed her head.

‘Please,’ she said as grasped the chair in front of her and her knuckles turned white, ‘don’t make me do it.’

‘No, come on,’ Harry said eagerly, a grin spreading across his face, ‘I want to see what all the fuss is about. I bet you dinner that you can’t hurt me. You could never—’

Hermione threw the chair she had been holding onto aside, starling Harry only a little, and then moved towards the cart in the corner and picked something at random. She moved behind him and got onto her knees. She grabbed one of his hands and pulled it towards her, making it flat and pressing the object against one of his fingers, which unsettled him briefly, and he looked around at her curiously.

‘What’ve you got there?’ Harry asked, raising his eyebrows at her with a little smile.

Hermione brought the object up into his line of sight. ‘Baboo shoots,’ she whispered carefully, turning it so he got a better look, ‘it might not look like much, but they are particularly effective, especially when they are inserted under the fingernails.’

Harry laughed. ‘You know what I think?’ he said, shifting his weight in his chair and facing forward as Hermione reached for his hand again. ‘I reckon you’ve never actually tortured anybody in your—’

The room suddenly filled with a blood curdling scream. Hermione pressed the baboo shoot upwards once, and then the moment she withdrew them, Harry’s screaming stopped, and he started breathing raggedly.

‘Is that it?’ Harry asked after a moment, and once he recaptured his breath, her laughed nervously. ‘That didn’t hurt—’

‘I’ve barely started, Harry,’ Hermione whispered in his ear, pressing the baboo shoots against his fingertip again, ‘but if you tell me who you work for, this doesn’t have to continue, this doesn’t have to get messy.’

‘You don’t have it in you—’

Harry started screaming again and this time it didn’t stop. How many hours had she spent doing this in her lifetime? Inflicting pain onto the numerous amounts of faceless spies that had been captured by her agency over the years. Never before had she felt as distraught about doing it than she did now. This was her husband, who she loved dearly, and as every minute passed, she felt a dangerous build-up of years forming in her eyes.

~ * ~

About an hour later, Hermione eventually stopped. Not because she had managed to break him, but because she’d broken herself. She couldn’t do it anymore, she dropped the blood-soaked bamboo shoots and got gingerly to her feet, as Harry slumped down in his chair and breathed heavily. Hermione walked away to the opposite side of the room and pressed her face against the wall. She could feel his emerald eyes piercing her, judging her and seeing her for what she was for the very first time.

When she finally turned to look at him, he briefly had an expression of fear, but he shifted in his chair again and cleared his throat.

‘I guess I owe you dinner then—’

‘Harry,’ she said to him dramatically, as she moved forward to sit down opposite him, ‘just tell me what I need to know. This doesn’t get any easier for either of us.’

Harry shook his head. He was wincing in pain from the aftershock and he was still breathing heavily. He bowed his head and she wondered if it was because he couldn’t look at her anymore. Hermione sighed, stood back up, and sauntered over to her cart of toys. All of it seemed far too cruel, knowing that she would have to inflict them upon her husband. It took her much longer to select her object of choice this time, as Harry panted in pain behind her.

‘What is it this time?’ Harry asked her curiously, looking over his shoulder at her as she picked up a pair of heavy-duty wire cutters. ‘Let me guess? You’re going to cut off a finger?’

‘Not quite,’ she said firmly, crouching down behind him again and reaching for his hands.

But this time, she didn’t use the object to cut into his skin, she clamped down on the handcuffs binding her husband in place and, after some pressure, they fell with a clatter to the floor and Harry brought his hands free, and started rubbing his wrists. He looked around at Hermione as she stood back up and glared down at him.

‘What’re you doing?’ Harry asked of her in amazement.

‘Saving my marriage,’ Hermione said, holding out her hand for him to take and pulling him onto her feet.

The moment he stood up, Harry grabbed Hermione firmly by the shoulders and pushed her towards the wall, thumping her into it with force, before leaning his head down to start kissing her. After a minute, he pulled away, he picked up the sharpest object on her cart of toys he could find and when he pressed it against her neck, his eyes flashed.

‘Why should I trust you?’ Harry asked of her, narrowing his eyes.

Hermione blinked at him. She seemed undeterred by the sharp object tickling her jugular.

‘Because…’ she whispered, pursing her lips, ‘you can’t get out of here alive without me and you know it.’

Harry glared at her. Whilst keeping the sharp object to her throat, he ran his hands up and down the length of her body, searching for concealed weapons. After patting down every nook that he could think of, he straightened back up and eyed her suspiciously.

‘No gun?’ He asked her in disbelief.

‘Not on my person, no,’ Hermione informed him casually, and when her eyes flicked towards her cart of toys, so did Harry’s.

Harry pushed her away, so that she was on the opposite side of the room from him, and he reached under the cart in search of the gun. He kept looking over his shoulder, expecting to see her take advantage of his back being turned, but she stood there with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed. Harry found the gun taped to wheel of the cart.

‘A Beretta?’ Harry asked her curiously, handling it like an expert as he checked the clip. ‘Bit of a girl’s gun, don’t you think?’

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him. ‘I happen to like it,’ she told him earnestly, ‘let me guess, you would have gone with a Walther PPK?’

Harry smiled at her. ‘You read my file,’ he said in amusement, holding up the gun and pointing it at her, ‘that was the gun I was carrying when your lot captured me. But yes, I would have gone with something with a bit more kick… something that would make my point better when I shot you.’

‘Are you going to shoot me, Harry?’ Hermione asked impatiently, folding her arms. ‘Or are you going to let me help you get out of here?’

Harry paused for a moment, with the gun held pointed at her, he thought about it, that’s for sure, considering what she’d done to him for the past hour. But eventually, he lowered the pistol and inclined his head.

‘I assume you have a plan?’ He asked after a moment, and Hermione smiled.

‘Naturally,’ she said, walking over to the door and knocking on it three times.

Harry hesitated. His wife didn’t look around at him or signal to him what she was doing. He instinctively put his arms behind his back to conceal the gun as the door the room opened and the Agent who had previously been keeping guard stepped over the threshold. His eyes widened in alarm as he saw Harry standing over by the cart of toys. He didn’t even see Hermione sneak behind him and disarm him of his rifle, which she used the butt of to hit him over the head and it made him crumble to the floor.

Harry looked impressed.

‘Follow my lead,’ she said, cocking the rifle and swinging the sash over her neck.

Harry hurried over to her. ‘Is the plan just to shoot our way out?’ He asked in alarm, stepping over the motionless Agent sprawled on the floor.

‘What’s the matter, sweetheart?’ Hermione asked, frowning at him sarcastically. ‘Have you never had to shoot your way through a high-security facility to escape before?’

‘Certainly,’ Harry said casually, ‘but this is _your_ agency—’

‘Not anymore,’ Hermione said coldly, leading him out into the deserted hallway. ‘You should be flattered that I’ve chosen you over them.’

‘I’m honoured, but…’ Harry hesitated, ‘won’t you have to go on the run for this?’

Hermione shrugged. ‘We all will. We’ll have to take Lily with us. And go somewhere safe.’

‘Where?’ Harry asked curiously.

‘Let’s worry about that if we get out alive,’ Hermione told him firmly, gesturing for him to follow her forwards.

‘If?’ Harry asked her in alarm.

‘When,’ Hermione corrected herself, nodding.

Hermione took one step along the hallway when Harry stopped her.

‘Here, have your gun,’ he said, holding out the Beretta for her to take and pointing to the rifle, ‘let’s swap.’

Hermione’s lip curled up into a small smile. ‘I don’t want the girl gun, thanks.’

She turned her back on him, grinned broadly, and continued up the hallway. The first corner they turned put them in another empty hallway, but at the other end of it, Hermione could hear hushed voice. She approached the corner carefully, peaked around, and saw two Agents discussing something at length with their backs to her. Hermione shuffled to the other corner wall opposite, so Harry could press himself against the wall she’d vacated.

She began to signal to him with her hands. In her head, she made clear, concise, tactical signals to him that said they should approach quietly, he would take the left Agent and she would take the right one and they would choke them out simultaneously. However, after she was done giving the instructions silently, Harry gave her a look of confusion that she hadn’t seen on his face since the night she told him she was pregnant, and he put out his arms in question.

Hermione slouched her shoulders and made the same signals again, only this time she went a little slower. Still, Harry looked confused and shook his head.

‘What the hell are you saying?’ Harry mouthed in frustration.

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes.

‘You take the left,’ she hissed in a whisper, pointing to the Agents, ‘I’ll take the right.’

Eventually, Harry managed to understand what she was saying, and together they slithered along the hallway and then, at exactly the same moment, took out the Agent’s they were assigned. Once they were motionless, and they’d relieved them of their guns, Hermione stood upright and glared at her husband.

‘Don’t you know what _this_ means?’ she asked him furiously, making the same movements with her hands again.

‘This is the universal sign for taking someone out,’ Harry said, running his finger along his neck, ‘I have no idea what you were on about—’

‘Forget it!’ Hermione snapped at him, grabbing him by the hand. ‘Let’s just go.’

They continued on through the facility and met very little resistance. The fact that it was a Friday night, and there was much less security, meant luck was in their favour. Hermione could hardly believe that, by the time they reached the underground carpark, they had only faced a handful more Agents, which the power couple had been able to take out with relative ease. It wasn’t exactly the action-packed breakout that had been imagined.

Hermione was pulling her car keys from her pocket when a large door slammed shut somewhere behind them, reverberating off the concrete walls, and making them turn around to look with their guns drawn.

‘What are you doing, Agent Granger?’

Hermione’s heart sank as she saw Agent Shaklebolt walking casually towards them, he had a calm look on his face and his hands were behind his back. Harry glanced sideways at his wife, as if to question what she wanted to do, but Hermione had frozen on the spot and the guns in her hands lowered ever so slightly.

‘I—’

Hermione didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to do. 

‘This man is our enemy,’ Agent Shaklebolt said calmly, he inclined his head towards Harry, ‘he has killed our fellow agents, thwarted our plans, sabotaged our agency and you’re helping him escape?’

‘I—’

Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head.

‘He is my husband, Kingsley,’ Hermione said, daring to use her boss’ first name, ‘and I love him.’

‘I don’t care who he is, Agent Granger,’ Agent Shaklebolt said firmly, and he finally brought his hands out from behind his back, and pointed his pistol at them, ‘kill or disarm him now or you will be relieved of your duty and imprisoned for treason—’

‘No, I don’t think so,’ Hermione said finally, raising her gun and pointing it at her boss, ‘I quit.’

Her gun went off like a firecracker and hit it’s intended target. Agent Shaklebolt clutched at his chest, fell to his knees and then collected the ground of the parking lot with a thud. Hermione stood there, with the gun at arm’s length, breathing in deeply at the thought of what she had just done. Harry came over to her tentatively, reaching for her hand and tugging it slightly to get her attention.

‘Come on,’ Harry whispered empathetically, ‘we have to go.’

Hermione nodded and, after one more pause to look down at the motionless body of her boss that was oozing blood, they made their way to the car, but were faced with yet another barrier, as Harry stood in front of the door of the driver’s seat and held out his hand expectantly.

‘Keys,’ he demanded of her.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. ‘Why?’

‘I always drive,’ Harry said with a shrug.

‘Yes,’ Hermione said calmly, ‘and you drive like a little girl, I’ve just never had the heart to tell you. So, maybe now, considering the circumstances, I should drive.’

‘Little girl?’ Harry asked, getting a wry smile from his wife. ‘What circumstances are we talking about here?’

‘I know the way out and you do not,’ Hermione said, pushing Harry aside, ‘now get in.’

Harry wanted to say something by he yielded. He slid across the bonnet of the car, climbed into the passenger seat and had just reached for his seatbelt when the car roared into action and hauled out of the underground carpark, leaving Harry unable to strap himself in. He eventually managed to click his belt into its slot, and when they looked to be in the clear, he peered sideways towards his wife.

‘So,’ Harry said quietly, leaning back in his seat, ‘where to now?’

Hermione looked towards him briefly before returning her eyes to the road.

‘Well, it’s been thirteen years,’ she said quickly, ‘but I think it’s time we finally went on our Honeymoon.’

‘What about Lily?’

‘She’ll be with my mum and dad,’ Hermione explained, ‘she’ll be safe.’

‘Wait,’ Harry said with a pause, ‘are your parent’s secret agents too?’

Hermione shifted nervous in her seat but didn’t answer. She kept her eyes on the road and Harry rolled his eyes and sighed.

‘So many lies,’ Harry said in frustration, throwing his head back, ‘just tell me one thing. Is there anything you’ve actually said to me during our marriage that’s the truth?’

Hermione paused for a moment to think about it then glance at him with a smile.

‘I love you, Harry but… no...’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN - Sorry about the abrupt finish, I didn't know how to end it... :3


End file.
